Bad News for Mycroft
by KathyG
Summary: In this sequel to "Potential Fallout," set during "A Scandal in Belgravia," John phones Mycroft to give him the bad news about Sherlock's failed attempt to get Irene Adler's camera phone. One-shot.


**Bad News for Mycroft**

 **By KathyG**

 **In this sequel to "Potential Fallout," set during "A Scandal in Belgravia," John phones Mycroft to give him the bad news about Sherlock's failed attempt to get Irene Adler's camera phone.**

John stepped out of Sherlock's room into the hallway. "Thanks, Lestrade," he said wearily, as he approached the detective inspector, who was waiting for him in the corridor. "I don't know if I would have been able to get Sherlock home by myself, in the shape he's in."

Lestrade nodded. "You can't tell me what it was about?"

John shook his head. "Not without Mycroft's permission, I can't. He's the one who sent us on this case. And speaking of which—" He pulled his mobile phone out of his jeans pocket. "—I need to call him, bring him up to date."

Lestrade grimaced. "He's not going to welcome this news, I fear." John made a face. He could only agree. Lestrade smoothed his hair back. "Well, I'd better go, John."

"Yeah. Ta." John raised his hand to say good-bye as Lestrade headed toward the front door.

John entered the living room and sank down into his armchair. The Union Jack cushion flattened behind his lower back as he leaned back, and the air conditioner hummed in the background. Holding the phone between his thumb and index finger in his left hand, John pressed Mycroft's speed-dial number with his right.

A moment later, Mycroft spoke on the other end. "Hello, John."

"Hello, Mycroft." John bit his lower lip.

"You have bad news to share with me." It was not a question. Mycroft already knew.

With a sigh, John nodded. "I'm afraid I do, Mycroft." He paused. "Sherlock did manage to get the camera phone from Irene." He grimaced. "For all of five minutes, that is." He glanced at the late-afternoon sunlight pouring in through the window.

A pause. "What happened?"

"Somehow, Irene drugged him, and then she got the camera phone back from him." John shifted position and scratched his thigh. "He's still under the influence of whatever Irene drugged him with. He's in his bedroom right now, fast asleep." He sighed. "Lestrade left just a few minutes ago. He helped me get Sherlock home and into his bed. He would like to know what's going on, but I told him I'd have to have your permission to tell him."

John sighed again. "I am so sorry, Mycroft. I know you were counting on Sherlock getting those photos away from Irene Adler. So was Sherlock, if that's any comfort. He was fully expecting to have them in his possession now, to give to you, and he would if Miss Adler hadn't outwitted him."

"I know he was, and I was hoping he could, yes, but to be honest, I was afraid something like this might happen." Mycroft paused. "My brother can defeat any ordinary criminal with ease, but Irene Adler is of a caliber that Sherlock has never encountered before. I'll be honest with you, John: I was concerned that he might meet his match in her, even as Harry and I told him about the case."

"He certainly did." John pursed his lips. "And that's not all, Mycroft. Before that happened…" He cleared his throat and began again. "Before that happened, several American CIA agents broke into Irene's house and threatened us all at gunpoint. It seems that you're not the only one who wants whatever's on that camera phone."

There was silence on the other end for a long moment. At last, Mycroft said, "Would you explain to me how that happened, John?"

"Certainly." For the next several minutes, John explained to Mycroft what had happened from the moment that he and Sherlock had entered Miss Adler's house to the moment that John and Lestrade had gotten him back home and into bed. When he was finished, Mycroft said nothing for a minute. The air conditioner hummed in the background as John waited.

"Thank you, John, for telling me that," Mycroft finally said. "And thank you for calling me and filling me in. I will stop by Baker Street in the morning, to speak with Sherlock. He should be over the drug's effects by then."

John nodded. "We'll be here. And yes, he should be."

"I'll see you in the morning, then." There was a click on the line. Mycroft had hung up.

John laid his mobile phone on the coffee table and shook his head. At least Mycroft knew now. _I could use some tea,_ he thought. He pushed himself wearily to his feet and trudged toward the kitchen to use the kettle.

2


End file.
